The Death and Life of Superman (17 page)

“What’s it look like I’m doing?” Claire slowly eased the unconscious Justice Leaguer across the linoleum. “You heard Superman! We have to get out of here, and we can’t very well leave this poor woman behind!”

“Yeah. I guess not.” Mitch numbly fell in alongside his mother, holding Becky in one arm and using the other to shove debris out of their path.

Superman peered down the length of his heat beam. “Amazing. I can’t even see him anymore, but I think he’s still standing!”

“Don’t stand there blabbin’, Boy Scout. Just turn up the juice!” Guy’s voice had become a raspy growl.

Fire began to sway, her flame flickering out. “I’m spent . . . can’t go on anymore!”

“Me neither.” Sweat was running down Booster’s face. “My power cells are shot . . . drained!”

Bloodwynd looked pained. “I . . . am weakened myself.”

“Okay, let’s give it a rest!” Though he’d never admit it, Guy was about to collapse. “After all this there’s no way the creep could still be standin’!”

But as the smoke and fire of their barrage dissipated, it became all too clear that Doomsday was indeed still standing. He had stood his ground throughout their high-energy attack. The ground around him, however, was scorched and smoldering. Doomsday’s heavy suit was partially burnt away, and his left arm was completely free of its bonds.

All they had succeeded in doing was destroying the last of his restraints.

Doomsday launched himself at the assembled Justice Leaguers, scattering them like tenpins. He battered the powerless Booster Gold unconscious and then used Gold’s body as a weapon, hurling him headlong at Guy Gardner. Superman and Bloodwynd tried to surround Doomsday in a flanking maneuver, but the creature lashed out unexpectedly, stunning them both. Groggy, Bloodwynd tried again to focus his eye-beams on the creature but succeeded only in accidentally igniting the ruin of the Andersens’ house. Stumbling away from the battle, Fire tried to give Claire Andersen a hand with the injured Ice.

That’s when the house fire touched off a gas line. Already severely weakened, the house blew apart. A huge burning section of roof and wall fell toward Mitch and his family, separating them from the stunned Justice League.

Amid all the chaos and confusion he had caused, Doomsday leapt away, laughing madly.

With that awful laughter ringing in his ears, Superman scrambled to his feet, a look of horror on his face. All his life, ever since he’d reached maturity and realized the extent of his powers, he had held himself in check whenever circumstances forced him to fight another living being.
If my holding back has resulted in this—!
The thought terrified him.
No . . . no way is that maniac escaping me!
With a spring and a leap, Superman shot into the sky. The others could deal with the fire—he had to stop Doomsday!

Mitch came to, surrounded by smoke and scattered debris. “Where . . . where is everybody? Mom? Becky—?!” He had been holding his baby sister. Now where was she?
My God, did I drop her?

Then he saw them. They were just a few feet away, but they might as well have been on the moon. A burning beam separated him from his family. Through the wall of flame, Mitch could see Becky sitting huddled next to their mother’s body.
No, don’t think that. She’s alive, she’s got to be!
A wave of heat forced Mitch back and he stumbled from the wreckage. The Justice Leaguers lay sprawled around him like broken dolls. Mitch looked around wildly.
There’s only one guy who can help us . . . Where is he?

“Superman! Please, Superman, you gotta hear me! Help us! Please!”

Superman was already many miles away. He caught up to Doomsday at the apex of his second leap and struck the creature in the side so hard that the sound of his punch echoed like a thunderclap. Stunned, Doomsday fell from the sky, landing like a rock in the fields far below.

Superman glanced back toward the ravaged suburban subdivision. He could hear the distant wail of sirens and the cry of a desperate young man.

“Superman! Please—you’ve got to help us! My mom . . . my baby sister . . . they’re trapped! Please!”

Scanning the scene with his super-vision, Superman discovered to his horror that the rest of the Justice League were in no shape to help, and civilian rescue workers were still several minutes from the scene.
Good Lord! I’ve got to get back there!

But in that moment’s distraction, Doomsday launched himself skyward, slamming into Superman like a guided missile. The Man of Steel tumbled backward, the creature holding on to him.

This creature’s fast and strong, but it seems to leap rather than fly! As long as I can hold it, it’s at my mercy as to where we go.

Clutching Doomsday tight around the shoulders, Superman dove beneath the waters of nearby Westville Lake. There he forced the creature deep into the silt at the bottom of the reservoir. Superman then shot up out of the lake.
That should keep the monster out of trouble. I just pray there’s still time to help that family!

Claire Andersen regained consciousness amid the fiery rubble of what had been her home, her baby crying plaintively by her side. She picked up her daughter and cradled her in her arms, trying to shield the child from the blistering heat with her own body. “It’s okay, Becky. It’s okay. Well get out somehow.”

Then came an awful cracking noise. Claire looked up to see another huge beam toppling toward them.

Suddenly, a crimson and blue flash swept through the fire, and a pair of powerful arms scooped up Claire and her baby.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

“S-Superman?”

They soared out of the wreckage, high and away from the heat and flame. Claire looked down and saw what was left of her home going up in smoke.
Down below . . . mother’s china, the family photos . . . everything’s burning . . . it doesn’t seem possible.
Becky squirmed in her arms, and she hugged her tighter.
But it doesn’t matter . . . they were just—things. We’ll get by . . . as long as the kids are safe. The kids—!

“Where’s my son? Where’s Mitch?”

“Don’t worry, ma’am, he’s all right. An EMS crew’s just arrived . . . I can see him down there with them.”

Mitch Andersen looked up in wonderment as Superman descended. “He did it! He saved my mom and baby sister.”

Superman handed the Andersens over to the paramedics and then looked about him. Booster Gold, Fire, and Guy Gardner were being laid out on stretchers. One rescue worker was starting to tape Ice’s ribs, even as she was trying to get Guy to lie still. Bloodwynd was standing, but he didn’t seem all that steady on his feet. Finally able to take a head count, Superman realized that two members were missing.

“Where are the others?”

Ice looked up tearfully. “Before you ever arrived . . . Beetle was beaten . . . horribly. I . . . I convinced Maxima that she should rush him to the hospital.”

Superman looked grim. “You should all go to the hospital. None of you is in any shape to carry on.”

“Yeah, but you are.” Guy Gardner reached up, tugging on his cape. “Don’t wuss out on us. Boy Scout! Get that Doomsday creep. Put him in a pine box for me . . . or I’ll crawl off this stretcher and kick both your butts!”

“I’ll take care of things, Guy. You just let the doctors help you.” Superman turned to the nearest paramedic. “Have your local hospital contact the Justice League Compound in New York City. They’ll supply you with the medical records for these people.”

And then Superman was gone, rocketing off into the heavens.

9

Doomsday emerged
from the lake, growling like an angry bear. The previous attacks had blasted away part of the goggled hood that masked his hideous face, and now he stared with his exposed eye, scanning the skies for signs of the flying man who had tried to bury him in the lake bottom. But where was he?

High overhead, an air force jet fighter shot across the sky, its contrail marking its flight path. Doomsday regarded the fast-moving speck for a moment. Was that the flying man?

Crouching low, Doomsday leapt nearly a mile into the sky. It was not high enough. The contrail drifted far higher. The creature let out an angry snort as he arced Earthward. If his target flew higher, he would just leap higher. It would not escape him.

Doomsday landed feetfirst on a rocky cliffside, and immediately sprang skyward again. Higher and higher he climbed . . . two miles, then three . . . but still not high enough. Again he fell to Earth, and again he leapt into the sky. His third leap carried him well into the wilds of Pennsylvania, and still he did not stop. He would not stop—not until he had caught up to his quarry and brought it down.

Superman scourcd the bottom of Westville Lake, finding no sign of the creature. He emerged to find a highway patrolman waving to him from the shoreline.

“Superman! Superman, if you’re looking for that monster, it’s gone!”

“Any idea of where he went?”

“Not for certain. Some kids playing near here say they saw it jump up into the air and just keep going. Can—can it fly, too?”

“Not exactly. Did they say which direction it was headed?”

“Sure did. It took off to the east.”

Superman looked eastward and instantly noticed the contrail. “Oh, no!”

Captain Joyce Miller cruised eastward in her F-15, appreciating the day and the fine weather, and simply appreciating being alive and in flight. She had thoroughly enjoyed taking part in the Wright-Patterson air show, had been sorry even to see it end.
Too bad Will had to cancel at the last minute. Two F-15s make for an even better show than one. Oh, well, there’s always next year.

She was eight miles high and twenty miles south of Lancaster, Pennsylvania, when a blip suddenly appeared on her short-range radar.

“Dover Control . . . Dover Control, this is Momma Bird, do you copy? Over.”

“This is Dover Control. We read you, Momma Bird. What is your situation? Over.”

Captain Miller frowned at her screens. “Not clear. Short-range is showing a bogey on my tail . . . no, wait, it’s falling off screen.” For a moment it had looked like the simulations of a surface-to-air shot.
But that’s ridiculous! Who’d be firing a SAM in southern Pennsylvania?
“Wait a minute! There it is again!” A warning buzzer sounded in the cockpit. “It’s gaining on me!”

Miller yanked the stick sharply to the side and hit the afterburners, taking evasive action, but it was too late. “I’m hit! Repeat, I’m hit!” She looked back over her shoulder and saw an apparition out of her worst nightmares crawling down the fuselage toward her. The air tore at the monster’s tattered hood, exposing a huge red eye that stared out at her through a cage of craggy bone. More bone protruded, tusklike, from around the gaping mouth.

“What the hell is that?!”

“Momma Bird? What is your—?”

“I’ve got some refugee from the
Twilight Zone
on my back!” She could swear she heard it bellow, even over the roar of the jets.

“Momma Bird? We didn’t copy that—!”

“I don’t believe it myself!” Miller pulled back on the stick. She was losing power fast. But, hallucination or not, as long as she had some degree of control, she was determined to bring her craft down.

The F-15 shook as Doomsday sank his fists into the fuselage, defiantly hanging on against the force of the onrushing gale. Inch by inch he worked his way toward the helmeted figure beneath the canopy. It was not the flying man who lurked within the falling metal craft, but it lived. He would kill it before he moved on.

Miller mouthed a silent curse. She was losing control and that . . . thing seemed to be getting closer. She looked down. The Susquehanna River stretched out before her, emptying into the upper Chesapeake Bay. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about crashing into some town. The jet shook again. This time, when she looked back, the creature was scraping at the edges of the canopy.
That does it!

“Dover Control, this is Momma Bird! You may ground me for this, but I have a monster on my back!” Her voice suddenly calm, she gave her location and initiated procedures for ejection.

The canopy suddenly exploded out of Doomsday’s grasp, and the next instant Captain Miller shot up and out of the damaged craft. When her parachute finally opened, she was still high enough to watch as the monster rode her ship down into the bay.

Several minutes after the jet disappeared beneath the waters of the bay, the air overhead was chopped by the rotors of an Apache helicopter from nearby Fort Schiff.

“I don’t get it, Marcus.” The copilot looked up from the instrument array and shot his buddy a quizzical look. “An F-15 goes down and some fly-boy bails, but we’re not looking for him?”

“Her. We’re not looking for her, Ralph.”

“Whatever. So what
are
we looking for?”

“A monster.”

“Oh, a monster! Why didn’t you say so? A monster . . . get serious!”

“The CO seemed very serious. The jet pilot claimed that some monster lit on her bird and forced it down. Air rescue’s already been dispatched to scoop up the pilot.”

“And we drew boogeyman duty.”

“You might say that, Ralph . . . but I wouldn’t. At least not to the CO.”